


Dean's Journal - Part 2

by Jinx (jinx37kat)



Series: Dean's Journal [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-16
Updated: 2006-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinx37kat/pseuds/Jinx





	

A few days later, Sam had the opportunity to snag Dean’s journal. They had made it to yet another run down town with another run down motel. And they were running low on funds.

And since Sam really didn’t like Dean using his fake credit card any more than he had to, Dean bailed once they had settled in.

“There’s a bar just down the street, Sam. I’m gonna go down and see if I can’t score some cash.”

Sam sighed. He didn’t like his brother hustling pool, either, but between the two evils, hustling pool was the lesser and, dare he say, more honest.

Besides, Sam had spent the past few days torturing himself over Dean’s journal. He really wanted to know what else Dean had written… hoping to get a better glimpse of who his brother had been during his absence.

So, it was with an almost blessing on Sam’s part that he wished his brother luck as Dean headed for the door.

“Just try not to come back with any bruises this time.”

Dean smirked. “For you, Sammy… anything.” And with those words, Dean sauntered out the door.

Sam sat stunned on the bed. For the first time, he truly heard the words Dean said and maybe understood the meaning behind it. Dean really did mean those words… maybe more than Sam ever realized before. But since having read just a small part of Dean’s journal, Sam _heard_ the truth behind what was said.

Making sure that Dean was well and truly gone, and knowing that he’d be gone for a few hours at least… couldn’t just blow in and take peoples money. ‘You have to lose some to win lots, Sammy,’ Dean once told him… Sam finally got up and went over to Dean’s pack.

The journal was tucked at the bottom and Sam made a mental note to remember where he’d found it. Dean would know something was up if Sam just tossed it back haphazardly. If Dean was anything, it was observant. 

This type of business taught them both that.

Settling down on his own bed, Sam opened the journal and began to read.

 

_**June 3, 2002** – Well, Stanford’s on summer break, but Sam has decided to stay for summer classes. I knew he would. He is bound and determined never to come home again… But since dad told him as much when he left, it’s no wonder._

_I was kinda hoping, though, that he would at least come home to see me, but…_

_Whatever._

_I should have known better._

_**June 27, 2002** – Went to Stanford to check on Sammy. Saw him at a bar with a really pretty blonde co-ed. Reminded me of mom… well, pictures of mom, at least. Sammy may not remember her, but… he’d always been drawn to girls that were like her._

_I think Sam may have found his ‘normal’. I hope so… for his sake. Someone in this fucked up family deserves something better._

_I sure as hell will never have it._

 

Sam frowned at the entry. He didn’t remember seeing Dean that summer. Then he remembered Dean telling him that Dad used to check up on him periodically whenever he was in California. Dean must have done the same thing. Probably didn’t want Sam to know, knowing how Sam would have reacted.

Sam sighed. This journal was revealing much more than he had ever expected… much more than he wanted to know about himself. Specifically… he was a class-A asshole who didn’t deserve his brother’s kindness, much less his loyalty. But he had both… in spades.

 

_**November 6, 2002** – Why the hell do I do this to myself? I should have known that Sam wouldn’t want to see me? I mean, is it so wrong to want to see your own brother? Apparently so. Over a year since Sammy went off to college and I’ve only seen him a handful of times. And each time it’s like I’m imposing._

_Well, this is the last time._

_Apparently he had a party to get to with his ‘friends’. And why did I have to pick today to visit? I am always ‘so inconsiderate, Dean.’_

_If that’s the way he wants it. I guess that’s it. I’ll leave him alone. Give him his ‘normal’. I just wish there was some place for me in his ‘normal’._

_I guess not._

 

Sam felt his chest tighten at the words, but kept reading.

 

_**December 25, 2002** – I wonder what Sammy’s up to today? Probably at his girlfriend’s family’s house or with a group of his friends. I sent him a Christmas card. To be honest, I’m surprised that it hasn’t been returned yet. But, there’s still time, though, I guess._

_Dad’s off drowning himself in his fifth of Jack. Christmas tradition since Sammy’s left. Merry Christmas, Dad. And I’m here in the room watching crappy Christmas specials._

_Now I know why people kill themselves during the holidays… damned depressing when you don’t have any family. But I don’t need to bother doing anything as mundane as killing myself. This job will do it for me. Ah, the joys of dangerous living._

_**January 31, 2003** – Dad went to California for “a job”. Though I know that he went to check on Sammy. I don’t know why he just doesn’t admit it. I guess for the same reason I don’t when I go._

_Probably would have gone with him if I could travel and wasn’t laid up in the motel room with a few more scar inducing gashes on my back. Fucking werewolves… sharp fucking claws._

_With the way things have been going lately… I wonder if Sammy will even care when dad or I get killed. It’s bound to happen sooner or later, but since Sammy pretty much cut us outta his life…_

_He probably won’t._

 

Sam stopped reading and took a deep, painful breath. He’d never really thought of that when he was at college. What would have happened if something happened to either their dad or Dean? Would they have even told him? He was sure they would have. Considering that they kept an eye out on him – even without his knowing – the entire time he had been in school; they would have let him know if something happened to the other.

But the fact that he never once thought about it was making him physically sick right now.

So far, he’d read about Dean in the hospital only a few months after Sam had left for college and hurt again at the beginning of the following year. Sam wondered briefly why Dean never called about the werewolf but remembered that he’d tried calling after the poltergeist attack that first year and he’d hung up on Dean.

He probably couldn’t hate himself any more than he did at that exact moment, though he had a feeling that Dean’s journal would probably reveal more than Sam wanted to read.

But he continued, nonetheless…

 

_**March 17, 2003** – Okay, so I never thought that Leprechauns were real. Of course they pick today of all days to make their appearance. Vicious little bastards. Like I wanted their pot of gold – not! I wanted them to fucking die is what I wanted. But instead, I got two new broken ribs and a concussion. At least I managed to send them back to hell or Ireland or wherever the fuck they came from._

_Sammy would have gotten a kick outta them, if only to see that they were really real._

_Sammy… I miss him._

_**October 26, 2003** – Dad sent me to Oregon to check out some Bigfoot shit. _

_I’m getting real tired of him sending me off on my own. He’s been doing it a lot lately. Totally not feeling the love here. Getting the hint that he doesn’t want me around. Kinda like Sam. Can those two **be** anymore alike? Shit!_

_Kinda getting the feeling he doesn’t give a shit whether I live or die, too. Just as long as I’m outta the way… gone… whatever._

_He’s been spending more and more time in California, too. Always checking on Sam. But then again, it’s **always** been about him. It was like that with mom and it’s like that with dad._

_Whatever._

_Maybe sending me off on my own is a good thing. Least if I get killed, no one will know. Dad won’t know and Sam won’t care. Or Sam won’t know and dad won’t care. Either way… it won’t matter._

 

Sam stopped reading and had to close the journal. He took several large gulps of air, trying desperately to will the tears burning behind his eyes. But it was no use… they fell anyway.

He got off the bed and went into the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on his face, Sam deliberately avoided looking into the mirror, not wanting to see what looked back. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see the tears that threatened to fall; it was because he didn’t want to see the bastard he’d become.

He couldn’t believe that Dean felt like that – like no one cared. But once Sam thought about it, he realized that there really wasn’t any other way for Dean to feel.

Sam wandered back to his bed and sat down on the edge. He fingered Dean’s journal as he thought about – _really_ thought about – what Dean must have gone through.

Their mom died when Dean had only been four years old. Young enough to remember a happier time with a real family, but old enough for those memories to sink in and burn in his soul. 

And remember he did. He remembered enough to tell Sam story after story of what it was like before – what their mom looked like, how she smelled, the sound of her voice, the bedtime stories she read to both of them, going to the park with their mom and dad, playing T-Ball with their dad, their dad’s smile, how their dad used to pick them both up and carry them around – all the good memories that a four year could hold in his heart and tell his little brother when things weren’t so good.

At the same time as their mother, Sam and Dean had pretty much lost their dad, too. He was (still is) hell-bent on finding out what happened to his wife, not realizing or understanding or caring what he was doing to his sons as a result.

Dean took on the role of mother to Sam and confidante to their dad while still trying to be big brother to Sam and loyal son to their dad. Dean had way too many roles in his young life and none seemed to be appreciated by either Sam or their dad.

It was no wonder that Dean felt that no one cared.

No one did.

Sam didn’t… at the time. Didn’t realize everything that Dean had sacrificed while trying to keep what was left of their fucked up family together.

Their dad didn’t… at all. Expecting Dean to be, as Sam has called him on numerous occasions, the good little soldier. Not caring his eldest son had sacrificed his childhood for his dad’s quest.

Suddenly, comprehension hit him so hard, Sam doubled over from the pain. He swallowed hard and blinked back the burning behind his eyes as he became conscious of the fact that, whether Dean knew it or not, his big brother was trying to kill himself.

All the risks that they’d taken recently. All the jobs that Dean found for them… up to and including the ones that their dad had sent them on. Dean was gung-ho on every single one of them. Well, except for the one back in Lawrence. That one was understandable. Neither one of them wanted to go back. But Dean really didn’t want to go back. But he did… for Sam.

Sam realized that everything that Dean did was for him. Hell, his brother was down at the local pool hall hustling pool for money so that he wouldn’t upset Sam by using the fake credit cards.

Shaking his head to clear his runaway thoughts, Sam forced himself to come back to the important issue… Dean trying to die.

It probably wasn’t a conscious thing, though with Dean, he never knew. The point was… what was Sam going to do about this new revelation? Well, for starters, Sam was going to have to keep a closer eye on his brother.

Dean was always protecting Sam. It was time that Sam returned the favor.

Noticing the time, Sam snagged the journal from his bed and shoved it back down in Dean’s bag. He undressed and crawled under the covers. He would wait up for Dean like he always did, letting his brother crow about his winnings. 

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Dean returned, smiling like he’d won the lottery.

“Six hundred bucks, Sammy! Your brother is a genius!”

Sam smiled a real smile for the first time in a long time and sat back to listen to Dean’s triumphs. He couldn’t shake the knowledge of what he’d learned tonight about Dean from his mind, but that was a good thing. He was ready to be the protector instead of the protectee in this partnership because the alternative was unacceptable.


End file.
